


only true in fairytales

by vlieger



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 18:38:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vlieger/pseuds/vlieger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh my God," said Dylan to Posey once Tyler left. "He <i>likes</i> me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	only true in fairytales

**Author's Note:**

> i'm tentatively setting this loosely between s1 and 2? like, i think there's only so long dylan cld realistically be oblivious with tyler being so OBVIOUSLY enamoured of him.

Holland organised the cast vacation. Or well, Dylan suspected it was actually HollandandColton, which, yeah, he'd taken to referring to them inseparably all in one breath, because as an entity they were even more amazing and terrifying in real life than as Lydia and Jackson on the show. 

No one was really given a choice, anyway, so there they all were on the plane, and Dylan was sharing his aisle seat with Hoechlin's window, mainly because Hoechlin had thrown his bag into the overhead with one stupidly muscled arm and grabbed Dylan around the wrist with the other and said, "I shotgun Dylan," to the plane at large, and well. 

Dylan couldn't say he minded. Like, all of his castmates were kind of awesome, but Hoechlin had really comfortable shoulders to nap on and moreover he didn't _mind_ when Dylan took advantage of them, not like Colton, who insisted that Dylan drooled and ruined his clothes even though he totally _didn't_ , thank you very much. 

"Is this vacation going to involve beaches?" said Dylan as the plane started taxiing down the runway, "Because my bikini body totally isn't ready for the world to see."

Tyler grinned at him. "Is the world ever going to be ready?" he said. 

"Hmm," said Dylan. "Good point. Probably not. No one can handle this jelly."

Tyler laughed, tipping his head back. "Aw," he said. "I'm sure I can handle it."

"Yeah, well maybe _I_ can't handle _your_ jelly, you freaky alien from planet gym."

"If it makes you feel better," said Tyler, "I've got the body, but I totally don't have the game."

"You think _I_ have the game?" said Dylan, laughing. 

"Yeah," said Tyler, and the weird thing was, he didn't look like he was joking at all. 

 

Holland had organised the rooms as well, and Dylan actually ended up sharing with Posey, because apparently it was a _thing_ to work on their chemistry even on vacation.

"I'm insulted," said Dylan, folding his arms. "Are you saying we don't have enough chemistry already?"

"No, it's a bonding thing," said Holland, rolling her eyes. 

"We're totally bonded!" said Posey. 

"Yeah, and if it's a show thing, how come you're sharing with Ian and not Colton?" said Dylan.

Holland flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Because I organised this vacation, so I make the rules."

"Oh." Dylan nodded. "So I should stop trying to apply logic to your reasoning, is that it?"

"Pretty much," said Holland airily. 

Hoechlin had his own room, which he shrugged over and said, "I'm going to work on my scary loner thing."

"Really?" said Dylan. "What a waste of a single room."

Hoechlin grinned and disappeared to settle in. 

 

"Do I have game?" said Dylan to Posey as they unpacked and settled into their room. 

"Kind of," said Posey, stopping midway through folding his underwear-- because that was a thing he did, apparently-- to tilt his head at Dylan. "In like, a dorky kind of way. Cute! You're cute."

"Um," said Dylan. "Okay?"

"Why, are you having a crisis of confidence?" said Posey. "Because you're hot, dude, don't worry about it. Like, not to me, but that's 'cause we're bros."

"Thanks." Dylan rolled his eyes. "No, just. Hoechlin said I have game. It seemed weird, coming from him."

"Well, yeah, but he's totally into you," said Posey. 

Dylan blinked at him. "What?" he said, shaking his head. 

Posey stopped folding his briefs to level him an incredulous look. "Did you seriously not know?" he said.

"I know I'm cute," said Dylan. "I might even go so far as adorable, but I'm not-- I'm not _that_."

"Yeah, but." Posey waved a hand. "You think he's _that_ , right, but he is that, so obviously to him he's not looking for _that_ kind of that, he wants-- well, he wants you! So like, you're _that_ that for him, you know?"

"No," said Dylan blankly. "What? Are you high?"

"Dude," said Posey, "How have you not noticed he literally worships the ground you walk on?"

"He thinks I'm funny," said Dylan. "That's not exactly-- "

"No, I said literally, I _meant_ literally," said Posey. "Like, he probably has a shrine dedicated to your face."

"Oh my God," said Dylan. 

"I know, it's creepy," said Posey. 

"Not that kind of 'Oh my God,' oh my God," said Dylan. 

 

"Do you have a shrine dedicated to my face?" said Dylan kind of wildly.

"What?" said Tyler, laughing confusedly but still _laughing_ like he did even when Dylan's jokes didn't make sense. 

"Sorry," said Dylan. "But, um. You like me, right?"

"Of course I do," said Tyler immediately, brows furrowing. 

"But not like, to shrine extents," said Dylan, just to clarify. 

"Well." Tyler tilted his head. "I wouldn't say that, exactly." He gave Dylan this stupid blinding grin and slung an arm over his shoulder. "You're pretty shrine-worthy."

"But like, just my jokes and stuff, right?" said Dylan. 

"No," said Tyler, like he was honestly baffled about why Dylan would think that. 

"Okay," said Dylan. "Okay, nice. Should we watch a movie?"

"I probably _shouldn't_ ," said Tyler, "Since I have to be up early tomorrow, but I'm not saying no."

"Sweet," said Dylan. "Posey, put a movie in."

"What?" said Posey. "Why do I have to do it?"

"Because it was your idea, duh," said Dylan, dropping onto the couch. Tyler sat down too. Right next to him, in fact, even though the couch was a three-seater. 

"It was?" said Posey, frowning. 

" _Yes_ ," said Dylan, rolling his eyes and keeping his face completely straight, which was more than could be said for Tyler, who was laughing helplessly into his shoulder. "How can you not remember? You said, 'Dylan, get Hoechlin over for movies, I'll even put them in the DVD player for you because I know how much you hate doing that.'"

"Oh," said Posey, frowning. "Okay."

"Was it really his idea?" whispered Tyler while Posey put a movie on. He leaned in so close his lips actually brushed the skin on Dylan's ear. 

"No," said Dylan. "It was mine."

"I knew you liked me best," said Tyler, grinning and slinging an arm over Dylan's shoulder, and well…yeah. Dylan kind of did. 

 

"Oh my God," said Dylan to Posey once Tyler left. "He _likes_ me."

"I told you!" crowed Posey from his bed, half a slice of pizza hanging out of his mouth.

"You're disgusting," said Dylan. "I'm going to find Hoechlin and have sex with him."

"Ew, _ew_ ," Posey shouted after him. " _You're_ disgusting!"

 

He thought about it on his way down the corridor, like, trying to run back over everything with the gift of knowledge, or whatever. This was how they first met:

"Paul Newman!" Dylan had shouted at the stupidly attractive dude the kid from that movie had apparently grown into. 

"Um," said the dude. "No, it's actually Tyler. Tyler Hoechlin? Hi."

"Hi," said Dylan, taking the offered hand and adding, " _Tom Hanks_."

Tyler bit down on his lip. "So, uh, I'm guessing you've seen that movie?"

" _Seen_ it?" said Dylan. "I can't believe I'm working with someone who worked with Paul Newman, holy shit."

Tyler rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and looked kind of embarrassed. "It's not-- I mean, it was ages ago," he said. 

"Shut up, it's the coolest thing ever," said Dylan. "Daniel Craig! Did you know he's Bond now?"

"I did, actually," said Tyler, laughing. "It's nice to meet you, by the way. Is it-- you're Dylan, right?"

"Huh?" said Dylan. "Oh, yeah, right."

Tyler laughed some more, all white teeth and crinkled eyes. 

"Man," said Dylan, watching him a bit stupidly. "That was kind of embarrassing, right? Is there any chance we can pretend I have some kind of movie trivia Tourette's?"

"Nope," said Tyler, grinning. 

"I googled everyone before I met them, okay," said Dylan defensively, biting back a smile. 

"Aw, at least let me maintain the illusion that I had a fan," said Tyler, all mock sadness. 

…And yeah, okay, looking back now Dylan could kind of see how that was flirting, but seriously, how was he supposed to know _then?_ People didn't generally flirt with him so easily and so quickly after meeting him, especially people who were criminally attractive successful actors fresh off a resume with names like Paul Newman and Tom Hanks. Of course it took him a while to figure out. 

So Posey could suck it, and also suck on how Dylan wasn't going to waste any more time getting laid. Or well, much more time. 

 

He didn't actually end up propositioning Tyler. Or well, not for his body, anyway. Or his _heart_ , whatever. 

"Hey!" he said when Tyler answered his knock, blinking confusedly, which was fair enough, since they did only say goodbye like, two minutes ago. 

"Hi," said Tyler. "Everything okay?"

"I'm here to proposition you," said Dylan. "Or well, your hotel room, actually."

"You're…propositioning me for my hotel room?" said Tyler, furrowing his brows. 

"Hmm," said Dylan. "No, not exactly. I'm commandeering your hotel room, would be a better way of putting it. Like, you don't have a choice."

"Oh, okay," said Tyler easily. "Go nuts. What do you need it for?"

"I," said Dylan grandly, stepping past Tyler into the room, "Am going to host a banging party."

" _Banging?_ " said Tyler, shaking his head and grinning. 

"Yes, banging," said Dylan, poking Tyler's chest sternly. 

"Why my room?" said Tyler. "Not that I mind, you know. Just curious."

"I'm covering my ass," said Dylan. "You know, legally. Not literally. I would never deprive the world of that."

Tyler laughed, tipping his head back so his throat was exposed, all long stretched-out tendons and stubble. "I guess you want me to provide the alcohol then?"

"I won't even make you pay for it," said Dylan solemnly, putting a hand on Tyler's shoulder. 

"Thanks, buddy," said Tyler, grinning. 

 

Dylan loved that he didn't have to do much more than decide they were having a party in the first place. The minute Holland got wind of it she revoked his food supplying privileges, and Hoechlin was already done sorting out the alcohol, so all Dylan had to do was get dressed and turn up, which.

Well, he thought he'd be in charge of that part, at least, but apparently not. 

"Dude," said Posey. "You can't wear that."

"What?" said Dylan, looking down at himself. "Why the hell not?"

"Do you want to get laid or not?" said Posey, crossing his arms. 

"Um," said Dylan. "That really depends on who you're talking about."

"Don't be dense, dickhead," said Posey, throwing a pillow at him. "Like, I know it's just us, but make an _effort_."

"I am!" said Dylan. "These are my best jeans."

"The jeans are fine," said Posey. "The t-shirt has to go though."

"Please tell me you want me to put something on instead," said Dylan blankly. 

"Yes, God." Posey rolled his eyes. "It's not _seductive_ enough. Put on something with a vee neck. You'll thank me later."

"Oh my God, what difference does it make, I don't have the tits or the muscular definition to make it worthwhile."

"Don't be sexist," said Posey sternly. "Change the shirt."

"Like you can talk, you dress like a complete douche," muttered Dylan, but he pulled the shirt off.

"Stop being so bitchy, you're just nervous because _Tyler_ will be there," said Posey, smirking. 

"I see him literally every day," said Dylan. 

"Whatever," said Posey. "Now you know he _loves_ you."

"Oh my God," said Dylan again. 

 

Colton answered Tyler's hotel door. "Welcome to your party," he said, grinning. 

"Thanks, dude." Dylan jumped in for a hug. "I see you've taken it beyond anything I could've cooked up."

"Yeah," said Colton, looking around with a satisfied expression on his face. "The food's pretty amazing. Holland helped," he added magnanimously. 

"You two are terrifying," said Dylan. "In, like, an awesome way."

"I know." Colton grinned and shoved them into the room. "Go get drunk."

"Yay!" said Dylan randomly, and tripped straight into Hoechlin's chest. 

"Hi," said Tyler, steadying him and smiling this kind of devastating smile, just like he was so genuinely _glad_ to see Dylan. Which was stupid, because like Dylan just told Posey, they saw each other pretty much every day. That made it all the more stupidly fantastic, though. Dylan didn't really know what to think-- just, how did this amazing person even _like_ him so much. He felt hot all over. 

"Hi," he said, grinning back helplessly. 

Tyler took his hands off his arms once he was stable, which kind of sucked. 

"Hey," he said bravely, "I could fall over again any minute, you know."

Tyler sort of laughed and gave him a weird look all at the same time, but he slung an arm over Dylan's shoulder and tugged him against his side and even led him to the booze, which was almost too much awesome to deal with at once. 

"What's your pleasure?" he said, glancing enquiringly at Dylan. 

"Gimme a beer," said Dylan. "Also your hat. I've had my eye on it all night."

"So what, thirty seconds?" said Tyler, huffing a laugh. 

He grabbed two beers from the ice box and didn't complain when Dylan snagged his cap though, just laughed some more and twisted the tops off the beers. 

"Hmm," said Dylan, eyeing the cap in his hands. "I did my hair especially though."

"Yeah, well, I didn't," said Tyler. "So give it back."

"But your hair's all long now, you should let it run wild," said Dylan. 

"You really should," agreed Holland.

Dylan jumped and choked on his mouthful of beer, but beamed at her anyway. "See?" he said triumphantly. 

"Also, I want the hat," said Holland, snatching it out of Dylan's hands and fitting it snugly onto her head. 

They both watched, heads tilted, as she walked away. 

"It probably looks better on her than either of us," said Tyler in the end.

"Definitely me," said Dylan. 

"Shut up," said Tyler easily. 

Dylan elbowed him. "Okay, I have beer," he said. "Now where's the dancing?"

 

Dylan ended up starting the dancefloor, of course.

"Jeff should be here!" he said to Tyler. "He loves my dancing."

"I love your dancing," said Tyler, taking his empty beer bottle and handing him another. 

"Yeah?" Dylan grinned around the mouth of the bottle. "Come dance with me then."

Tyler shook his head but squeezed between Crystal and Gage to get to him. 

"Are you going to be my drinks bitch tonight?" said Dylan, spinning in a ridiculous circle and not really caring when he tripped and fell against Tyler's chest. He had a good chest for falling on. 

"Sure," said Tyler easily. "I refuse to take responsibility for how drunk you get though."

"That's not really fair," said Dylan.

"It's my hotel room, I get to make at least one of the rules," said Tyler.

"Well, that's fair," said Dylan, tilting his head. "It's a conundrum."

"Shut up and drink," said Tyler, laughing. 

"Shut up and dance," said Dylan, tipping his head back to swig half the beer in one long swallow.

Objectively Tyler looked kind of stupid, navigating all that muscle into his dorky dance moves, but then objectively they all looked stupid, including Dylan, so it didn't really matter. 

Especially because the room was pretty warm with so many of them in it, plus dancing and alcohol, so it wasn't long before Dylan could spot the sweat gathering in the hollow of Tyler's throat and dampening his hair, and it was really pretty hot, never mind the way Tyler kept accidentally-but-probably-not touching him, like, just a quick hand brushing his side or a shoulder bumping his. 

Dylan kind of wanted to hug him. Or climb all over him, whatever.

"I'm out," said Tyler after maybe half an hour, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead.

"Wimp!" shouted Dylan. "Get me another beer."

Tyler saluted him, mouth open and wet and smiling. Dylan spun around a little dizzily and fell into Crystal. 

"Careful," she said, laughing and tucking her hair back behind her ear. "You won't get laid if you pass out now."

"Who says I want to get laid?" said Dylan. 

"Your face," said Crystal.

" _Your_ face," said Dylan, giggling. 

"You are the lamest," said Crystal, shaking her head.

Dylan pouted. "Dad!" he shouted to the room at large. Hopefully Linden was within earshot. "Dad, Crystal's being _mean_."

"As your fake father only," said Linden, "I refuse to take responsibility for anything stupid you do on this vacation."

"Okay, seriously," said Dylan, "Why is everyone so reluctant to take responsibility for me? I'm awesome."

"You are, sweetie," said Crystal soothingly. 

"I don't need anyone to take responsibility for me anyway," said Dylan.

"Exactly," said Crystal.

"Sweet," said Dylan. "Where's Tyler and my beer?"

"Right here," said Tyler from behind him. 

"Best," said Dylan, turning around. "You are, I mean. You're the best."

"Thanks." Tyler knocked his bottle against Dylan's and took a drink. "What's going on?"

"We're discussing how awesome I am," said Dylan seriously. 

"Cool," said Tyler. 

"You think I'm awesome, right?" said Dylan. 

"Of course I do," said Tyler. 

"Best," said Dylan again. 

 

Dylan ended up slumped on the couch, because there was only so much dancing even he could cope with.

Holland and Ian were slow dancing to Pitbull in the middle of the room, which they were somehow managing to make work. Dylan was actually really impressed.

Colton had his head in Crystal's lap, and Posey was still out on the balcony, possibly passed out. No one had checked on him in a while. 

"Hey," said JR, looking at where Colton was curled admittedly pretty snugly into Crystal, "Do I need to protect my fake daughter's virtue?"

" _I_ think I need to protect my fake son's virtue," said Linden, which…yeah.

Tyler was draped more on Dylan than he was on the couch, and he was fucking heavy, but he was also warm and he smelled really nice; a little bit of alcohol but mostly aftershave and detergent.

Dylan let his head fall into the crevice Tyler's shoulder made where his arm was slung around Dylan's neck and breathed in, and it felt kind of important to say, so he mumbled, "You smell nice."

Tyler huffed a laugh into his hair. "You're all sweaty," he said. 

"I've been dancing, shut up," said Dylan.

"I know," said Tyler. "That's cool. It's like…you. I like it."

"Thanks," said Dylan. 

"Don't stop doing that, okay?" said Tyler, tightening his arm a little.

"What, being me?" Dylan turned his head to look at Tyler, except he forgot that he was sitting all slouched so he ended up with his face in Tyler's neck instead.

"Yeah," said Tyler. Dylan could feel the way his throat moved when he talked; it was kind of cool.

"Okay," said Dylan. "I'll-- I'll try and do that."

"Good," said Tyler. "I think I'm falling asleep."

Dylan hummed. "You didn't win that race," he said. He was pretty positive Posey wouldn't be making it back in, and Colton and Crystal were already out for the count. 

"Hey," said Tyler. "This is my room."

"I know," said Dylan. "I commandeered it, remember?"

"Yeah," said Tyler fondly. And then, "No, but, I mean I have a _bed_."

"You should get to that before Holland and Ian do," said Dylan. 

"Come with me," said Tyler. 

Dylan blinked into his neck. "I'm not having sex while everyone else is in the room," he said.

"To _sleep_ ," said Tyler, laughing. 

Oh. Yeah. Dylan would maybe feel stupid if he weren't so drunk. "Okay," he said. "Sleep is good."

"Awesome," said Tyler, and didn't move. 

"Okay, dude, a) you're way too fucking heavy for me to carry, and b) even if you weren't you're _on top of me_ , so you're gonna have to move if any getting to bed is going to happen."

Tyler groaned but heaved himself painstakingly upright. He didn't let go of Dylan in the process though, so they stayed pressed together as they stumbled over to the kingsize on the other side of the room. 

His last thought as they tumbled into bed was that he should probably move away from Tyler, but it was so sticky-warm and comfortable in the breathless space between them and he didn't really want to, so.

 

That was pretty much exactly where he woke up except _closer_ , his legs all tangled with Tyler's and one of Tyler's arms curved over his side, the muscles slotting up like puzzle pieces with Dylan's ribs and his hand splayed huge and warm between his shoulderblades. Dylan pretty much never wanted to move, ever. 

Except, well, there were some morning… _issues_ making themselves known, and Dylan didn't really want to deal with that while-- he craned his neck to peer over the mound of blankets without actually dislodging any of their tangled limbs-- yep, most of the cast was still in the room. 

It took him for-fucking-ever to extricate himself without waking Tyler. He looked pretty dead to the world, but Dylan didn't want to risk it, so he slid his limbs out one by one and inch by inch until he was standing by the side of the bed trying to force his eyes away from Tyler's stupid sleeping face, all pink-cheeked and soft beneath his stubble, the faint shadows of smile-lines about his eyes. 

He managed in the end, if only because he wanted to take stock of everyone else's state, which was…well, partly worth it. 

It was pretty hilarious. Posey had apparently made it inside sometime during the night, and was curled up on one of the couches between JR and Linden. Dylan stifled a giggle and dug his phone out of his pocket to snap a photo; the internet would thank him. Colton had moved too; Crystal was sleeping curled up with a blanket on the floor and Colton was now snuggled up to Gage, his head precariously close to her chest. Dylan took another photo. Fucking jackpot. Holland and Ian where nowhere to be seen. _That_ would've been a good Kodak moment, goddamnit. 

He decided not to push his luck further, anyway, and escaped back to his empty room to take a shower and jerk off and think about Tyler while he did, which was some shitty planning on his part, because he was still slightly dizzied up on booze and he came so hard he slipped and nearly brained himself on the taps. 

More sleep was clearly in order. By the time he dried himself off and shrugged into a t-shirt and shorts he was already half asleep, and pretty much all of the way there once his head hit the pillow.

 

He was woken some indeterminable length of time later by knocking on the door. 

"Fuck's sake, Posey," he shouted. "If you want to get in use your own goddamn key!"

He rolled over and stuck his head under a pillow. 

"Um," said Tyler-- Hoechlin, that was, not Posey, aka the less annoying one, "It's me. I stole Posey's key though, hang on, don't move."

Dylan sat up in bed, blinking, as Tyler let himself in. 

"Hi," he said. "Nice work on the key thing."

"Thanks." Tyler smiled. "Hi. I, um. I woke up alone? That kind of sucked."

"It did?" said Dylan. That was…not something he was used to hearing the morning after nothing even happened. Not that he'd ever heard it, actually. "Oh, yeah. I mean, I was kind of gross, so I thought I'd grab a shower, and then my bed was right here, so. You should be glad you missed out on it, really. I'm not pretty in the mornings."

"You're always pretty," said Tyler. "And I'm not. Glad, I mean."

"Um," said Dylan. 

"Anyway." Tyler shook his head. "I'm here to seek temporary asylum. No one's leaving my room."

Dylan choked on a giggle. "Sorry about that," he said. 

"It's fine," said Tyler. "You owe me your room though."

"Deal," said Dylan. "Pull up a chair. Or a bed. Or…whatever."

Tyler climbed into Dylan's bed next to him and said, lying back like he owned the place and crossing his arms behind his head, "Movie?"

"Sure," said Dylan stupidly.

 

Dylan ended up falling asleep _again_ , and this time when he woke up his head was cushioned on Tyler's chest and Posey was drinking beer on the other bed. 

"Huh?" he mumbled, rolling his head on Tyler's ridiculously sculpted pecs and looking at Posey. "How did you get in? And didn't we _just_ stop drinking?"

"Hoechlin let me in," said Posey, shrugging. "Even though this is _my_ room. And I don't know about you, but I stopped drinking way too long ago. It's vacation, dude."

"Too," said Dylan.

"Huh?" said Hoechlin and Posey together.

"Your room _too_ ," said Dylan. He yawned and sat up, making grabby hands at Posey. "Give me one."

Posey grinned and tossed a bottle across. Dylan took a long swig and then tilted the bottle at Tyler.

"My trainer's going to kill me," he said, frowning at the bottle but taking it anyway. 

"Turn that frown upside down, Derek," said Dylan, giggling. 

"Shut up." Tyler elbowed him, grinning around the mouth of the bottle. 

They ended up splitting Posey's six-pack pretty evenly, and then Dylan made Hoechlin order the fanciest cocktail they could find on the room service menu, because, " _Vacation_ ," he said sternly to Tyler's baffled and slightly conflicted face. 

"I feel like today has been both awesomely and disturbingly unproductive," he said later, tipping the last of the cocktail into his mouth and then chasing it with the strawberry sitting astride the glass. 

"Vacation," said Hoechlin absently, watching Dylan possibly being a little more obscene with the strawberry than he needed to be. 

"I love vacation," he said, grinning. "We should do this more often. Holland is a genius."

Tyler shook his head and smiled kind of helplessly.

"I like your smile," said Dylan blurrily. "You should smile more."

"I smile all the time," said Tyler, which. Yeah, he did. That wasn't what Dylan meant though. He frowned.

"Derek," he amended. "Derek should smile more. So like, people can _see_."

Tyler laughed. "I'm not in charge of Derek," he said.

"That's stupid." Dylan sighed. "I'll talk to Jeff. He loves me."

"Yeah," said Tyler kind of distantly.

 

"Hey," said Dylan later. Posey was on the phone ordering, by the sounds of it, a ridiculous amount of pizza for three people. Even if they were the three people in question. "Do you think everyone's left your room yet?"

"Trying to get rid of me?" said Tyler, rolling a grin across Dylan's spare pillow. 

"Never," said Dylan, pressing a hand to his heart.

"Good," said Tyler. "I think I might crash. Pizza always makes me tired."

"Really?" said Dylan.

"It's the carbs," said Tyler.

"No, I mean." Dylan bit down on his lip. "My bed's kind of small, is all. And you're…not."

"It's fine," said Tyler. "Unless you mind? I can go, it's no big deal."

"No," said Dylan.

"Okay," said Tyler. He relaxed out of his slightly tense question.

Dylan tilted his head back to try and see where Tyler had his arm stretched across the top of his pillow.

"What are you doing?" said Tyler, grinning. 

Dylan shrugged. "Whatever, man, it's vacation."

He jumped when someone knocked on the door.

Posey frowned down at the phone he'd just hung up. "That can't be the pizza already," he said.

It was, in fact, Holland and Colton and…well, pretty much the entire cast. 

"Seriously?" said Tyler. "Is this about me?"

Dylan tucked his grin into Tyler's bicep. 

"Shut up, you," said Holland, pointing. "We're here _together_. None of this cliquey bullshit."

"I wasn't being cliquey, I was trying to get through my hangover away from all the other hangovers," said Tyler. 

"Okay," said Holland easily. "That's fine. Movie night now though!"

"Do any of us get a say in what we're watching?" said Dylan interestedly. 

"No," said Colton.

"Didn't think so," muttered Dylan, sagging back into the crook of Tyler's elbow. 

Colton proceeded to get the movies going while Holland shoved Posey off his bed and settled in with Ian.

"I didn't order enough pizza for everyone!" said Posey frantically from the floor while everyone else sorted themselves out seating-wise. 

"So order some more, dickhead," said Dylan. 

"If any of you start getting handsy," said JR, pointing to both beds in turn, "I'm leaving."

"Um," said Dylan. "Are we supposed to be upset by that?"

Linden threw a cushion at his head. 

"Ow, what the hell, dad," said Dylan, grinning.

"Stop calling me dad," said Linden. "I feel old enough around you lot anyway."

Tyler sighed into Dylan's hair. "I brought a book to read, you know," he said.

"Wishful thinking," said Dylan.

"Probably," agreed Tyler. 

"Hey," said Dylan, craning his neck to look at him. "You okay?"

"Yeah," said Tyler. He smiled, and it seemed genuine enough. "I can still crash, right?"

"As long as everyone leaves eventually," said Dylan. "If not, I'm commandeering your room again."

"Sounds good," said Tyler.

 

They did end up leaving, albeit four and a half hours later. 

Tyler was lying back with his eyes half-shut, waving absently at Crystal, the last person out the door.

Dylan stretched his arms above his head and tried to decide whether he was tired enough for sleep.

"I feel gross," he said. "I literally haven't moved all day."

"You did some pretty epic dancing last night though," said Tyler, closing his eyes and doing a pretty spectacular job of looking all content and blissed-out. 

"That was twenty-four entire hours ago," said Dylan.

"Come to the gym with me in the morning," said Tyler easily.

"You're going to the gym in the morning?" said Dylan. 

"'Course," said Tyler.

Dylan rolled his eyes. "Freak," he said. 

"Beanpole," said Tyler, grinning. His eyes were still closed. 

"You love it," said Dylan.

"Yeah," said Tyler. 

It was a little disconcerting, how easily he admitted to all these things Dylan kept throwing at him. 

Like, Dylan knew himself well enough to know that he was a bit of a coward about things like that. 

Yeah, he did this thing-- he flirted stupidly and outrageously with people he liked because that's what you _did_ , and the response was almost always this condescending amusement that was good because it was expected, and he didn't have to worry about saying something simple and serious and unambiguously _real_.

He just…he hated the thought that it wouldn't _work_ , or that it'd be taken the wrong way, or thrown back in his face, or anything, really. It had happened before, and this was a way of covering his ass, of putting himself out there in a way that also wasn't really. Plausible deniability. 

Tyler didn't do that, and it was just another way he was distressingly perfect. 

"Hey," said Tyler. "Is Posey here?"

"Um," said Dylan, blinking and glancing around the room. "I think so? There's a sort-of human-shaped thing in his bed, anyway."

Tyler hummed, which…Dylan wasn't sure what that meant, but then he said, "C'mere," and wrapped an arm around Dylan's waist to tug him down and pull him against his chest. 

"Hi," said Dylan stupidly. 

"Hi," said Tyler, smiling against the back of his neck. 

"You cool?" said Dylan.

"Yeah," said Tyler. "Sleep, okay? I'll wake you for the gym in the morning."

"Okay," whispered Dylan, letting his arm relax over Tyler's and deciding that yeah, he could sleep.

 

The gym was kind of terrifying. Tyler woke him at 6am because he was a freak, and made them take a detour to his room so he could change into proper gym clothes.

Dylan wore shorts and a t-shirt because those were the only vaguely gym-appropriate clothes he owned.

"What do you want to work on?" Tyler asked him once they got there.

"Um," said Dylan. "I don't know, what do I need to work on?"

Tyler looked him up and down critically. "Everything?" he said.

Dylan rolled his eyes. "You'd make a shitty trainer," he said. "Was that a compliment or an insult?"

"Both?" said Tyler, grinning. 

He ended up on the rowing machine, mainly because it was the least scary looking piece of equipment there.

Turned out that was a bad deduction on his part.

"Ow," he said half an hour later. "Fucking _ow_."

He was maybe playing it up a bit; it wasn't comfortable but it wasn't _that_ bad either-- sure, he didn't have Tyler's frankly terrifying (if distressingly hot) muscle definition but he wasn't actually a twig.

Tyler looked over from where he was barely breaking a sweat on the elliptical, the asshole. "You okay?" he asked.

" _No_ ," said Dylan vehemently. "I'm _dying_."

"Maybe you should try working on your legs now," said Tyler.

"But they hurt!" said Dylan. 

Tyler rolled his eyes. "Get on the bike," he said. 

"It's too far away," said Dylan. 

"Stop exaggerating, you're not that out of shape. I've seen you dance."

"That's different," said Dylan, but he moved reluctantly over to one of the bikes. "My body isn't designed for _this_ kind of torture."

"It's not torture, it's awesome," said Tyler. 

Dylan shot him a dirty look. 

Tyler laughed. "I'll buy you breakfast after," he said. 

"Can I have pancakes?" said Dylan hopefully.

"Sure," said Tyler. 

"I'll try to push through," said Dylan, upping the resistance because he was a masochistic idiot too bent on impressing this gym-crazy weirdo. "Syrupy goodness awaits."

Tyler just laughed some more. 

It was okay, really, in the end. It was pretty easy to stay distracted when you had a sweaty, floppy-haired Tyler Hoechlin to ogle while he moved from machine to machine and finished with a series of painful-looking ab crunches that Dylan appreciated all the same because well…the result was pretty spectacular.

 

Hoechlin glanced at his phone while Dylan finished the last of his pancakes and said, "We're going to the beach."

"Huh?" said Dylan, looking up with his mouth full. 

Tyler rolled his eyes and lobbed a handful of napkins at him. "Beach," he said, holding up his phone. "Holland wants to go."

"But I can't wear my bikini after pancakes!" said Dylan. 

"Guess you'll have to make do," said Tyler, laughing so his eyes were all crinkled. 

"The things I do for you guys," said Dylan, sighing. 

Tyler just kept on smiling at him. 

 

Dylan enjoyed the beach wholeheartedly, really. He worked with a ridiculously attractive cast of people and it wasn't exactly a chore watching them prance around in bikinis and board shorts. 

"Dude," said Tyler, jogging up to where Dylan was stretched out under an umbrella. Dylan squinted up at him. He was shirtless, obviously, and tanned and sweaty and just…yeah. "Get out of the shade, come on."

"I'm allergic to sunlight," said Dylan.

"Take your shirt off, you need to tan," said Tyler. "Just put some sunblock on."

"No," said Dylan, folding his arms.

Tyler rolled his eyes and dropped to his knees in the sand next to Dylan, and proceeded to fucking…wrestle him out of his shirt. 

"Ow, _ow_ , motherfucker, what the fuck!" said Dylan, emerging from the tussle shirtless and covered in itchy sand. 

Tyler grinned brightly and climbed to his feet with Dylan's shirt balled in one hand. "It's for your own good," he said. 

"Lies!" Dylan shouted after him as he ran off. 

He should probably do something about all this sexual tension soon. It was getting a bit crazy. 

No less crazy when Tyler came back and said, "Swimming, come on."

"No, I'm shirtless, okay, but I refuse to get wet," said Dylan, even though he totally was going to swim, come on.

Apparently Tyler wasn't in the mood for arguing though. Or so Dylan figured, anyway, when Tyler just shrugged and said, "Okay," and hauled Dylan over his shoulder. 

Dylan shrieked and flailed and shouted, "Oh my God, you're actually insane."

He could see Holland's upside-down face come into view as they made it closer to the water. She was holding a shell and waved it threateningly at one or both of them. "I will stab you," she said.

"What?" said Dylan. "What did I do?"

"Violently," added Holland. 

"I don't think stabbing can happen without violence," said Dylan, and then Tyler dumped him into the waves. 

"You," he said, sitting up with his hair dripping into his face, and pointed at Tyler, "Are _mental_."

Tyler grinned. "You're wet," he said. 

"Thank you, Captain Obvious." Dylan rolled his eyes. 

"Seriously," said Posey in an undertone, kneeing his way through the water and stopping next to Dylan. "Can you guys just fuck already? This used to be cute, but it's kind of annoying now."

"I'm working on it," said Dylan.

"You don't need to _work_ on it, dude, Hoechlin's like, hell into you!" said Posey. 

"Yeah, well, maybe I want to do it right," said Dylan. 

"I'm pretty sure there isn't a wrong way," said Posey. "You've been flirting since day one, he likes you, you like him, just _do_ it."

"I didn't think my flirting was reciprocated, okay. Give a dude some time to adjust."

"You are so dumb," said Posey. "Like, the dumbest. Did you think he looked like that at everyone?"

"Um," said Dylan. "Yes?"

" _So dumb_ ," said Posey again. 

"Shut up, I'm enlightened now, leave me alone," said Dylan. 

Posey just shook his head and dunked him.

Dylan came up spluttering, blinking against the glaring sparkle of the water, and caught the way Hoechlin was watching him; this absent, forgotten grin like he couldn't help it, like it was just his Dylan face or something, and this stomach-clenching fondness about his eyes, shadowing a quieter but no less intense _want_. 

Yeah. Dylan really needed to do something.

 

"So," said Dylan, trailing Tyler into his room and fixing his eyes determinedly on the droplets of seawater beading at the ends of his hair and dripping onto his back. "We should fuck."

Tyler stopped short ahead of him. "I-- what?" he said, turning around. 

Dylan swallowed. God, this would be easier if Tyler had a shirt on. Or maybe not, what did he know. "You want to, right?" he said.

Tyler just stared at him for what felt like forever. "I-- yeah," he said eventually, and there it was again, that ease of admission, like, Dylan had never met anyone so open and obvious about liking him, about _wanting_ him. "I mean. Yeah. _Yes_. Obviously. But-- do you?"

"Yeah," said Dylan simply. "I didn't think _you_ did, for a while, but then I figured it out, so."

" _How_ did you think I didn't want to?" said Tyler incredulously.

"Yeah, I'm not sure," said Dylan, grinning. "You're really kind of into me, aren't you?"

"Yeah," said Tyler quietly. 

"Fuck." Dylan swallowed. "We should-- I'm going to kiss you, okay?"

"Go nuts," said Tyler when Dylan was already mostly there, so he wound up kind of half kissing him, half just slotting their smiles together.

It got better pretty quick though. Tyler splayed a hand over his jaw and like, angled his head perfectly, and Dylan opened his mouth straight away and then it was all slick and hot and Tyler's _tongue_ in his mouth, which felt so indescribably awesome.

Tyler made a noise when Dylan slid his hands up over his bare sides, and breathed, "God, you don't know how long I've wanted to do this."

"The whole time, right?" said Dylan, feeling crazy and stupid and brave. Maybe this was what it was meant to feel like, being Stiles. It was a weird thought, but a lot suddenly made sense right now. 

_This_ made sense, like, the way Tyler was kissing him, the way his hands were spread out huge and warm, part possessive and part almost _grateful_ , it was just-- Dylan couldn't figure out why they hadn't been doing this the whole time. 

"Yeah," said Tyler, and Dylan tightened his hands and kissed him _harder_. 

"Bed," he mumbled, because it felt pretty fucking spectacular, being pressed up against Tyler like this, but he couldn't stop thinking about how being horizontal and having gravity on their side would make it even better. 

He'd thought that they'd do the typical tangled-up stumble to the bed, but instead Tyler pulled away from him completely, sparing a second to grin when Dylan said, "Wha-- come back!" and coaxed him down onto his back with one stupidly gentle hand curled over either side of his ribs.

Then he climbed onto the bed and over Dylan, and yeah, fuck. _Awesome._

Tyler wasn't much taller than him, but fuck, he was _bigger_ , all solid, warm muscle that covered every inch of Dylan like some kind of super hot, super _heavy_ sex blanket. 

He was sandpaper rough where Dylan was smooth skin, and he'd have the worst case of beard burn ever tomorrow, and he couldn't _wait_. There was hair on his chest, too, courtesy of the filming break-- not a lot, but there below the vee of his collarbones, where Dylan found himself fixated any time Tyler wore a low-necked shirt, and sweeping downwards. His hair was longer than Derek's on the show, too, enough that Dylan could run his fingers through it and hold on, which Tyler approved of with a low, wanting noise into his mouth. 

"You have so many moles," said Tyler, ducking to tongue at the ones on Dylan's face, like he didn't _know_ , Jesus, "How do you-- it's so unfair."

"What, you want them?" said Dylan breathlessly. 

"I don't think I could pull them off," said Tyler, laughing against Dylan's cheek. "No," he added more seriously, "They're just…distracting. When we're filming and stuff. Or well, _you're_ distracting."

"Sorry," said Dylan. 

"No you're not," said Tyler, chuckling. 

"You're right, I'm not," agreed Dylan. "You should fuck me already."

"Oh," said Tyler. "But I wanted-- "

"Later," said Dylan. "I promise, later. I just, I _need_ \-- "

"Okay, Jesus, not like it's a chore," said Tyler, laughing breathlessly.

Because yeah, that was something Dylan wanted to do, to fuck Tyler, he wanted to do _everything_ , but right now he couldn't stop thinking about _this_ , about how good it felt to have Tyler's weight pressing him down into the bed, how it felt safe and comfortable and something more on top of it, some desperate, almost aching need to burrow closer and press harder and dig his nails in and just. Not let go. 

Tyler let up kissing him eventually-- albeit reluctantly, like, he kept zeroing back in to lick at Dylan's mouth and bite down on his lips and whisper, "Your _mouth_ , Jesus, do you even know-- "-- to nose his way down Dylan's chest and push his legs open. 

"Fuck," said Dylan, when Tyler pressed his wet, open mouth to his belly. "Oh God, _do_ it."

"Yeah," said Tyler. "Shit, I need-- hang on."

He moved off the bed to rummage around in his suitcase, and Dylan made a totally embarrassing whining noise that was sort of worth it because of how it made Tyler _smile_ , like, he just looked so happy it was kind of mind-blowing. 

"There's something seriously wrong with you," said Dylan as Tyler climbed back up to settle between his legs. "Like, do you _know_ how attractive you are?"

"Do _you?_ " countered Tyler, completely serious. 

"I'm adorable," said Dylan, grinning. "Not the same thing."

Tyler just shook his head and ducked to bite at the inside of Dylan's thighs. 

" _Fuck_ ," said Dylan. 

"I seriously," said Tyler, circling a lube-wet finger around Dylan's hole, "I don't _get_ how you didn't realise-- I thought I was making a total idiot of myself."

"To be-- _Jesus_ \-- to be fair, I think everyone else still thought you were making an idiot of yourself," said Dylan. 

"But I was looking at _you_ ," said Tyler. 

Dylan shrugged and bit down hard on his lip to hold in the noise when Tyler pushed a finger inside. "I liked you," he said. "I guess I was so caught up in flirting like a maniac I-- forgot to see if you liked me back? Or something. Don't worry, I'm totally up to speed on how much of an idiot you-- shit, I-- _more_."

"You're an idiot," said Tyler, pushing another finger in beside the first. 

"Yeah," agreed Dylan breathlessly, because well, he was, and also he didn't want Tyler to stop _ever_. 

Tyler bit down on his lip and kind of…scissored his fingers, and Dylan couldn't hold the noise in then, or the way he arched his back and tried to twist his hips around Tyler's fingers. 

"Keep-- keep doing that," he said. 

"I was planning on it," said Tyler, grinning up at Dylan through his hair. 

"Oh my fucking God," said Dylan, because if Tyler wasn't going to kill him with sex it would be with how attractive he was, Jesus. 

Tyler made a noise, like, this sort of animal, wanting thing low in his throat, and ducked in to mouth at the head of Dylan's cock, which. Yeah, okay, Dylan was going to die of sex. 

He was totally cool with that. 

"I'm still going to fuck you," said Tyler, looking up, and God, his voice sounded so _raw_ , "But I need to-- I've been thinking about getting my mouth on you, I just-- " and he swallowed Dylan down again. 

"Oh my _God_ ," said Dylan brokenly, fisting a helpless hand in Tyler's hair.

Tyler made another noise around his dick and twisted his fingers at the same time, and that was…Dylan couldn't deal, okay, it was _too much_ , all that sensation, the overload of _Tyler_ , his stubble rasping against Dylan's thighs where he couldn't keep them still, his fingers, his _mouth_ , just. All of it.

"Don't," he said, and then forgot how words worked for a moment when Tyler hollowed his cheeks and _sucked_ , and then moved straight on to tongue at the slit of Dylan's cock, "Holy shit, you need to-- I'm going to _come_ , okay, if you don't-- "

Tyler pressed in harder with his fingers and it was just…it was dead on against his prostrate and he couldn't…not with Tyler's mouth working like a pro on his dick and his free hand cupping Dylan's hip with this gentleness Dylan couldn't process at all right now.

"Tyler," he whispered desperately, tightening his hands in Tyler's hair, "Tyler, I'm seriously-- I'm going to-- " and okay, Tyler pressed in again with his fingers and hummed around Dylan's cock and that was it, he _couldn't_ hold it any more, he just arched his hips and came, gasping like an idiot at the ceiling and probably twisting his hands way too tight in Tyler's hair. 

Tyler kept mouthing at him for ages before he pulled off, working him down slowly, and then he just pressed his cheek to Dylan's thigh and breathed. 

"Holy shit," said Dylan stupidly, looking down at Tyler's red, used mouth. He touched a finger tentatively to the corner and felt it stretch into a smile. "Did you-- oh. You, you swallowed."

"Yeah," said Tyler, turning the smile on him. 

Dylan…did not know what to say to that. Like, at all.

"I wanted to," said Tyler. "I want-- can I-- "

"Fuck me?" said Dylan helpfully. " _Yes_."

Tyler sat up and just stared at him for a minute, then shook his head and kissed him, desperate and sloppy. Dylan curled his fingers into his hair again and just…tried to keep up. 

"Do it," said Dylan when Tyler let up eventually. 

"Yeah," said Tyler. "Okay, do you need-- "

" _No_ ," said Dylan. "I'm ready, it's fine, just-- just do it."

Tyler groaned and fumbled to get a condom open, rolling it on and lining up against him. 

"Okay?" he said. 

Dylan closed his eyes. "Yes, _yes_ , I _want_ you, God, just-- " he choked on the words when Tyler pushed the head of his dick inside. 

"Fuck," breathed Tyler. 

" _More_ ," said Dylan, and breathed out, long and slow, when Tyler pressed himself all the way in, this sweet, agonising stretch, inch by inch. 

"I need-- " said Tyler after a moment, and stopped. 

"To _move?_ " suggested Dylan.

Tyler choked out a laugh. "Yeah, that too, but." He paused. "Can you-- do you think-- again?"

"I-- what?" said Dylan blankly. 

Tyler curled a hand around Dylan's cock in explanation. Dylan hissed. 

" _Oh_ ," he said, glancing down between them. It was-- he wasn't hard, he _couldn't_ get it up again this quickly, but it felt like…he didn't know, like maybe if Tyler kept _going_ for long enough then he could, even if right now he was spent and impossibly sensitive. "I-- I don't know? Maybe."

"You can," said Tyler determinedly, and let go of his cock to rub his hands over Dylan's hips and push _in_ , firm and with enough force behind it that Dylan felt it all the way up along his spine, felt himself get pushed up a bit along the bed. 

"Oh holy-- _fuck_ ," said Dylan. "Okay, yeah, just-- just keep doing _that_ and I-- " he broke off when Tyler canted his hips in again, and God, he'd worked out the angle already, and it was…he could see it in Dylan's face, obviously, because he smiled this kind of satisfied smile and just kept pressing in, over and over and harder each time until Dylan was so fucking desperate to come again all he needed was his dick to cooperate, which…it kind of was, he was almost all the way hard again, and Tyler was whispering encouragingly as he bent down to kiss Dylan's jaw, slide over to his mouth and lick messily inside. 

"Come on," he said, closing his teeth over Dylan's bottom lip and tugging, "Come on, you-- you're nearly there, I can-- I want to see you come like this, I want to _feel_ it, I-- "

"Jesus," said Dylan, lifting a hand to guide Tyler's mouth back to his, "I will, I-- just kiss me, fucking-- _fuck_ me."

"I am," gasped Tyler. "I am, you-- it feels _so good_ , I can't even-- "

Dylan arched his neck and groaned. Tyler was bent in close enough now that he could rub up against his abs and get all this _friction_ , and it was almost painful, he was still so sensitive it almost hurt when his dick swelled and got all the way hard again, but it was also the most amazing thing ever, he could feel it _everywhere_ , this desperate ache clawing at his insides, this white hot desire to _come_ , it was all he could think about, that and the way Tyler felt inside him, so _full_ , and he said, "I-- shit, I'm going to-- " and Tyler said, "Yes, _come_ , do it," and Dylan just…did, choking out some ridiculous noise and screwing his eyes shut as he shook his way through it and almost blacked out at how _good_ it felt. 

"Oh my God," said Tyler, bearing into him _hard_ and stilling almost entirely. Dylan could only tell he was coming because of how he trembled a bit with it, and the way his hands tightened to bruising on Dylan's sides. " _Fuck_ ," he added eventually, slumping down with all his weight on Dylan.

"That," said Dylan eventually, his mouth half full of Tyler's hair and sweeping his hands up over Tyler's back, which was damp and muscled and just-- he kind of wanted to get his mouth on there, "Was a long time coming."

"Worth the wait," mumbled Tyler into the crook of his shoulder. 

"Hell yes," said Dylan, grinning. 

Tyler lifted his head to grin back, like it was this thing…like he _had_ to return it if Dylan was smiling at him. 

"I don't-- I don't get you," said Dylan, rubbing his fingers over Tyler's scalp. 

"Yeah you do," said Tyler easily, dropping his head to rest on Dylan's shoulder and mouthing at his jaw. 

"Okay," agreed Dylan, because well, maybe, he didn't know, but if Tyler said he did, then. Maybe he did, who knew. 

He did get a lot of things, he supposed. Like the way Tyler was this stupidly good actor, the way he was so earnest and determined and open about everything he did, the way he _cared_ so much about what people thought of him and also about making sure, if he thought someone else was amazing, that they _knew_ about it. He also had pretty decent taste in music, and apparently he liked to _read_ in his downtime. Like, who even did that? Plus he'd always let Dylan nap on his impossibly comfortable shoulders, even back when they didn't really know each other at all. "I kind of like you a lot, you know," he added when he blinked back to the quiet sound of Tyler's breathing, warm and damp on the side of his neck. 

He felt Tyler's mouth stretch into a grin, and his arm tightened around Dylan's waist. "I'm completely stupid about you," he mumbled. 

"I know," said Dylan.

He did. It was really fucking awesome.


End file.
